


He Asks Her Permission

by princesstigerlily



Series: sc codas [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22875793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesstigerlily/pseuds/princesstigerlily
Summary: Patrick asks Stevie's permission to marry David
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer
Series: sc codas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460098
Comments: 22
Kudos: 185





	He Asks Her Permission

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between chapters 30 and 31 of Just as Long as I'm Here in Your Arms

“Derek says he can meet with us again tomorrow night.”

Patrick looked up from where he was crouched in the corner of the studio, fingers flying over the keyboard of his phone. He typed out a final  _ I love you _ , hit send, then stood up, turning his attention fully to Stevie.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning apologetically as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “Say again?”

“I said, Derek says he can meet with us again tomorrow night.”

“Oh, good,” Patrick sighed in relief, bringing a hand up to scrub through his sweaty hair. The show was next week and they still had several scenes that needed to come together. The  _ Money _ number they had spent the night rehearsing was the most complicated, and instead of perfecting it, Patrick had sent Stevie sprawling a few times that night. “It’s just that lift!”

“Yeah.” Stevie fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag. Her hair fell in curtains in front of her face, hiding it from Patrick’s view. “Whose idea was it again for us to dance?”

“No one sane.”

Stevie huffed a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t believe I agreed to do this. At least you’ll be up there dealing with the humiliation, too.”

Patrick reached out to squeeze Stevie’s shoulder. “We’re going to get it, Stevie. I promise.”

“Who are you trying to convince there, me or you?”

Patrick pressed his lips together, trying to suppress his smile. “Both, I guess?”

“That’s what I thought.” Stevie waited for Patrick to hoist his gym bag over his shoulder, then fell in step beside him as they made their way out of the studio. “Though I will say,” she continued, “we’d probably be a lot better off if you would just quit dropping me.”

Patrick grimaced. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he started. “I-”

Stevie interrupted, her voice hesitant, like she didn’t really want to be speaking. “You seemed...kinda distracted tonight.”

Most people would have followed that up with a question about how Patrick was doing, but Stevie just let the words sit there between them. She could offer a lifeline to a friend, but she wasn’t going to do all the work for him. Patrick would have to pick it up if he wanted it.

Patrick didn’t respond, so Stevie mentally shrugged, content to move on. Patrick didn’t need to confide in her if he didn’t want to. In fact, she definitely preferred that he didn’t. Leave the sentimentality to those with the capacity to deal with it. As long as he quit dropping her.

Stevie was just about to say goodnight and part ways when Patrick shot out a hand and stopped her.

“Hey, do you wanna...do you wanna get a drink with me?” His face was turned towards the road, so all she could see was his profile, but the set of his jaw told her that this was more than a casual drink between friends. Maybe he was willing to pick up that lifeline after all.

Never one to turn down an offer of booze, Stevie shrugged. “I think drinking is the only thing that’s going to get me through these last rehearsals. Might as well start now.”

They walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the cafe, though by the time they slid into their booth, Stevie was itching for Patrick to say something. He clearly had something on his mind, and she couldn’t think of anything he would want to talk to her about that didn’t involve David. She needed to know what she was dealing with - whether she was going to end up consoling David or forcing him to get his act together - so she could plan how much and what kind of booze was going to be necessary for the job.

When Patrick still hadn’t said anything by the time Twyla deposited their drinks on the table - a glass of whisky for Patrick and beer in the bottle for Stevie - she couldn’t take it any longer.

“Spit it out, Brewer,” she growled. “What did you do?”

The soft, nervous smile that graced Patrick’s lips was confusing. It didn’t seem to fit either scenario Stevie had concocted in her head. She took a slug of beer and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Patrick bashfully lowered eyes, a faint splash of pink staining his cheeks. What was going on?

Patrick took a deep breath to calm his rabbiting heartbeat. He blew it out slowly, then looked up at Stevie, his gaze steady and firm.

“Stevie,” he said, his voice soft but determined, “I’d like your permission to ask David to marry me.”

Of all the things Patrick could have wanted to talk to her about, the thought of marriage had never crossed Stevie’s mind. She stared back at him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. 

“Uhhh…” Stevie shook her head, trying to get her brain to catch up with the conversation at hand. Patrick was staring at her with that stupidly earnest face of his, waiting for her to say something. “Why are you asking me? I’m not his family.”

Patrick’s mouth turned down, somehow both sympathetic and fond at the same time. “We both know that’s not true,” he said softly.

A soft, warm feeling ignited in the pit of Stevie’s stomach at the words, like cotton candy and sunshine, making her itch with sentimentality. She scratched absently at her wrist, wrinkling her nose at the feeling in bewilderment.

“Okay, but like…”

“You’re the most important person in his life,” Patrick interrupted. “Making sure you’re on board would be important to him. And...it is to me, too.”

“Okay, well now you’re just incorrect,” Stevie argued, and Patrick had to bite his lip to hide his smile at how much she sounded like David then. She took another swig of her beer. “I’m pretty sure you’re the most important person in his life.”

“I’m honestly not sure that’s true if it came down to it.” Patrick took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “Let’s just hope we never have to find out.”

Stevie was quiet for several minutes. She nursed her beer and people-watched the other diners in the cafe. She could tell Patrick was getting a little antsy, waiting for her response, but she wasn’t sure what to say. It was a lot of responsibility to lay at her feet, asking her permission like this. Too much.

“Why do you want to marry him?”

Patrick looked startled at the question. “Because I love him.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t answer the question. Why do you want to  _ marry _ him?”

“It does answer the question,” Patrick argued. “It’s that simple. I love David. I want to love him for the rest of my life.”

“Even though he’s selfish and needy and superficial and self destructive?”

Patrick took a long sip of his whisky, considering his answer before he spoke. “I don’t think he’s any of those things,” he said quietly.

Stevie gave Patrick a look. “Not claiming to be an expert or anything, but don’t you think you should look at things realistically before you get married? David Rose is a handful. No shame in saying so.”

Patrick shrugged. “David Rose is the love of my life. I’m not...I’m not being unrealistic. I know who he is. And I love who he is. I love that he’s loud and exacting. I love that he’s creative and dramatic and opinionated. I love how big his heart is. I know those things can get him into trouble sometimes, but I don’t want him any other way.”

Stevie frowned, dragging her thumb nail across the label on her beer bottle. It was wet with condensation, and the edge of her nail, ragged from a lifetime of gnawing on it, caught on the damp paper, tearing a gash through the logo. She knew Patrick was only asking for her permission as a formality. She wasn’t supposed to say anything but  _ yes _ , wasn’t supposed to feel anything but excited and happy for them. But she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t sure why hearing Patrick confess his love for David didn’t feel like enough, but it didn’t. It all felt too...unrealistic, too much like wishful thinking. Marriage wasn’t all romantic gestures and hot sex - she knew that much from watching her parents’ fall apart.

“Okay, but do you think you’ll think that forever?” she asked, unable to let these two men who had wormed their way into her heart get into something they couldn’t turn back from. “Think you’ll be able to handle him when he’s in real trouble? Not just ‘Alexis had sex in your store’ trouble, but real trouble? Like when he gets in his head and hates himself and gets all self destructive? Like when he has a Moira Rose level breakdown and it’s you sitting outside the closet door for days waiting for him to come out?” Stevie took a breath, leveling him with a look, determined to pull no punches. “Or like, I don’t know, like the  _ store gets robbed _ ? Or what about when you’re the one in trouble? Can you be honest with him? Can you let him in  _ before _ your secrets blow up in his face,  _ before  _ he’s left feeling like a fool for trusting you?”

Patrick grimaced as Stevie continued laying out all his greatest hits, every way he’d failed in his relationship with David so far. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he decided to ask Stevie’s permission to marry David, but he was certainly getting more than he bargained for.

“I’m glad David has you,” Patrick said as Stevie wound down her tirade. “He hasn’t had enough people stick up for him in his life.”

Stevie ducked her head, hiding her face behind a wall of hair. “I shouldn’t have to stick up for him against you,” she muttered.

“Of course you should.” Stevie looked up as Patrick continued, surprised by his words. “I’m going to make mistakes, Stevie. Sometimes I’m going to be dumb and hurtful, and he’ll need you when I am. I know I’m not perfect.”

“He thinks you are.”

“Well, he’s wrong. I’m going to hurt David and I’m going to let him down. I know that. I’m going to make mistakes and I’m going to be selfish and I’m going to fight dirty when I’m cornered. And I know that he will, too. But I...I know that I love him, and that I will do everything I can to make those mistakes as small as possible. And when I can’t, I’ll make up for them. And when he makes mistakes, I’ll forgive him.”

Stevie nodded hesitantly, like she wanted to agree with Patrick but couldn’t quite convince herself to.

“I want to love David,” Patrick said quietly, looking down into the dregs of his whisky. “I want to make him happy. I want to give him the life he deserves, one where he feels cherished and respected. I want to fight for him. I want to provide for him. I want to protect him.”

“Do you know how to let him do that for you, too?”

Patrick looked up, a knot of confusion furrowing his brow.

“I mean,” Stevie continued, “he’s not a housewife, even if he was in two episodes of the New York show. He knows that you love him. But can you let him...cherish you?” It took all her willpower not to grimace as she said the word. “Can you let him provide for you? Protect you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? He’s not a pet, you know.”

“Of course he’s not,” Patrick snapped. His face darkened, almost angry at the thought. “He’s my...he’s my  _ partner _ . I know how much he does for me. How much he takes care of me. I know how...how capable and strong he is. How smart. How determined and resourceful. People never give him the credit he deserves, they never see how much he can do. But I do.” Patrick took a deep breath, not wanting to get worked up in the middle of the cafe. His face softened as he spoke again. “I just want to make him happy, Stevie.”

Stevie nodded again, more confident this time, but didn’t speak. Patrick watched her thumb at the label on her bottle again, peeling off long, thin strips. He waited for her to say something else, but she stayed silent. Eventually, he felt the need to make his own promise to her.

“You’re not going to lose him, Stevie,” Patrick said softly, toying with the near empty glass in his hand. “I promise. Everything else...everything else I’m going to promise to David, but this I’ll promise to you. I’ll never take him away from you.”

Stevie didn’t look up, just continued to pick at the label on her beer bottle in silence. She liked Patrick, had liked him from the minute they met and had liked him for David almost as long. The idea of herself being in a place to love someone the way Patrick loved David, to be known the way Patrick knew David, was utterly terrifying. But for all their faults and foibles, she was pretty sure she’d never known anyone as well suited for each other as Patrick and David. She wanted this for them. Wanted them both to be happy, to be loved. And Patrick’s promise that she wouldn’t be left behind filled her with that same itchy warmth she’d felt earlier. She and David were family. And maybe she and Patrick were, too.

Finally, Stevie cleared her throat, sniffed decisively, and nodded once.

“Okay.”

“O...okay?” Patrick prompted when nothing else followed.

“Okay.” Stevie looked up, staring straight into the warm brown eyes that gazed back at her. “You have my permission to marry David. Just know that if you break his heart, I  _ will _ kill you. Mostly because if I’m in jail, I won’t have to hear his whining.”

Patrick chuckled fondly as Stevie began sliding out of the booth. “Noted,” he said, choosing not to mention the bill she was leaving him with.

Stevie adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and made to leave, but hesitated. She looked back at Patrick, chewing on her lower lip. Finally, she added quietly, “And if he ever breaks yours...well, I’ll kill him, too.”

Before Patrick could respond, Stevie was halfway across the cafe, making her way towards the door without looking back.

Turning back to the table, Patrick drained the last of his whisky before catching Twyla’s eye and signaling for his bill. He reached for the gym bag at his side, unzipping the side pocket and reaching in for the velvet box inside. Snapping it open, he ran his fingers over the four golden rings nestled inside.

Now, all there was left to do was ask David.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Point_of_no_return, vanillahigh00, and jka247 for making sure my hungover ass could still write coherent sentences. 😘😘😘


End file.
